


The Good Side

by TheSouthernFalconer



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Domestic Bliss, F/M, If You Squint - Freeform, Making Out, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Mild Sexual Content, Moving In Together, Post-Canon, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-06
Updated: 2020-09-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:48:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26326666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSouthernFalconer/pseuds/TheSouthernFalconer
Summary: “I have you.” Her heart swelled two sizes when she felt Lucio's breath catch. “This,” she gestured vaguely to their surroundings. “Is just the icing to the cake.”“Oh?” His smile grew cocky again. “And I’m the cake?” He looked up at her through golden lashes, and she snorted. “Really?”*Plotless, domestic, slightly spicy little thing, if you long to Make a Home, too.
Relationships: Apprentice/Lucio (The Arcana)
Kudos: 28





	The Good Side

“..Are you _sure_ about this place?”

“ _Lucio._ ”

Sybilla folded her arms with a huff, leaning against the bare countertop of their new shop-apartment complex. A couple of porters bustled in and out of the rooms, hauling in the last few pieces of their luggage, casting nervous glances at Lucio’s gauntlet and armor. She shuffled a little to let one of them set the bag of charms on the counter. “Will that be all, Madame?” He asked, and she was about to nod when Lucio cut in, gauntlet flashing rather dangerously as he motioned.

“ _No._ ” Then, catching the way his voice snapped, he reeled back, tempering the brusqueness and hostility in his tone. “No,” he repeated, slower this time. “You-“ he seemed to be fighting the well-oiled instinct to bark out an order, but he’d had enough practice, by now, to win that little battle. “Help her set up her inventory.” He said, finally.

The porter inclined his head in acknowledgement, getting to work immediately, opening her bag, and then pausing for a moment to regard its contents with ill-concealed wonder. She remembered what a friend of hers had told her, before they had moved here. That Venterrans welcomed magic with a childlike, wide-eyed mixture of fear and curiosity. “As long as you don’t set anything on fire at the wrong time, you’d get along well here.”

Well, that sounded good for business. She opened the second bag and rummaged through it’s contents, giving her aid a friendly smile. “Pierre, was it?” He nodded. “You could pick out one that feels right to you, if you’d like, consider it part of your payment.” He smiled widely, blue eyes widening in surprise, and got to work at once, laying out the charms by size and shape so she could sort them by function. Lucio had marched off to the apartment upstairs- she could hear him micromanaging the poor soul who was setting up the bed-frame. Now that the more frightening new inhabitant was out of view, Pierre seemed a lot more loose-lipped, asking her eager questions on the nature of each charm and their purposes. “The shawls have sigils sewn into them- a shield against the cold, see? The amulets ward off darker energies- good for an easy sleep, and the snakeskin pouch burns lava-hot when touched by an unwelcome hand.” She explained them to him one by one, and by the time her charms had been stacked neatly up on the shelves and the potted herbs properly situated, Pierre had a shield-amulet in his possession and what Sybilla knew to be a few good words for the new witch’s store in the city. She smiled, a little smug.

All in a day’s work.

As they were wiping down the dusty counter, Lucio reappeared, striding down the stairs with his hair a little sweaty and a few flecks of wooden chips sticking to his face and his bright red shirt, which Sybilla leaned in to dust off when he joined her by the counter. The other porter looked a little worse for wear, his brown hair a tousled mop, and hands smeared with what looked like grease. Lucio reached his hand into his pocket, pulling open his coin purse and dropping a generous amount of its contents into their hands. Sybilla watched the transaction like a hawk, though more out of habit than any real concern. Used to a far more lavish life, or not, Lucio was as good with his money as she herself was. “Have you eaten?” he asked suddenly, as the porters turned to thank them and leave. When they shook their head meekly, he sighed, adding a couple more coins to their prize. “What?” he asked, his eyes crinkling in amusement. “Enough for lunch, don’t you think?” They nodded hastily, bowing rather deferentially with a “thank you, kindly, oh yes,” before he dismissed them with a practiced wave of his hand. “That was good of you.” Sybilla kissed him, humming as he wound careful arms around her waist. He shrugged when they parted, cocking an eyebrow to affect a look of arrogance that reminded her of the Count he used to be. “Whaddaya know, gorgeous, I’m a generous man.” But the cocky smile was short lived, and it slid off his face as she nudged him away to straighten Royd’s perch behind the counter. It was a pointless endeavour. Her gyrfalcon would end up perching on the rooftop anyway. Maybe she could plant some creepers here to vine up around it. She was about to ask him for suggestions, when she noticed the grimace on his face as he poked and prodded at the floorboards and cast testy glances around the wall.

She clicked her tongue. “Lucio, come on.”

“Ugh.” He grumbled. “Do you _really_ like this place, Lillie? _“_

Sybilla took a deep breath, and planted her hands on her hips. “What’s wrong with it?” she asked him, frowning. “You were alright with it when they sent you the sketches, weren’t you?”

“Well- yeah,” he gingerly straightened a framed painting hanging on the papered walls. “It’s the best we could afford, for now, but-“ he wrinkled his nose. “It’s so _quaint._ ”

She rolled her eyes. “Come on, now, don’t be a snob.” She chided. “You sound like we’re living in some dump.” Which wasn’t the case. By all standards, this complex had been a sweet deal, a worthy investment without having had to clean their savings out. There was something vaguely nostalgic here too, that reminded her of the shop back in Vesuvia, though this store was significantly bigger, and far roomier, and instead of Asra’s knickknacks and Haider’s extensive indoor garden, Sybilla’s charms and sigils hung from the walls, along with the series of small miniature paintings that had been Haider’s parting gift from the city they’d left behind. (He’d initially planned on painting little reproductions of their favourite spots in Vesuvia, although he’d quickly changed tack, opting instead to make their familiars (and Camio), and innocuous, miscellaneous things- flowers, shrubbery, and the like- the subject of his work. She was grateful, she knew how much he missed Vesuvia, and having small reminders of what he’d lost and would never have again, tangible and up there where he could see them, would crush him. He already had a painful history with paintings and the past.) With the pristine white cloth spread over the counter and a carefully clipped bunch of white roses already in its place in the ceramic vase that Nadia had gifted them, Sybilla was nothing short of delighted with it. This was no Count’s wing, of course, but it was home, and much like their lives now that vice-tight chains and ill-wrought debts were behind them, this too, was wholly theirs for the keeping.

Lucio sighed, running his hand through his hair. “I know _I_ have a good eye for this, but-“ silver eyes met hers, a cloud of misplaced uncertainty hanging over them – “but you deserve better.”

Sybilla smacked her hand to her forehead, laughing fondly, incredulously. She closed the distance between them again, backing him up against the counter and throwing her arms around him. “Sunshine,” she pressed a firm kiss to his lips, as though she could physically shut down that strain of insecurity with the sheer force of her affection. “I have _you._ ” Her heart swelled two sizes when she felt his breath catch. “This,” she gestured vaguely to their surroundings. “Is just the icing to the cake.”

“Oh?” His smile grew cocky again. “And I’m the cake?” He looked up at her through golden lashes, and she snorted. “Really?”

He was still grinning shamelessly, and she shook her head and accepted defeat. “Yes, you’re cake, Lucio.” She admitted. “Of the most delectable variety.” She punctuated it with a nip to his throat that had him shivering. 

“Okay, I’ll let it go.” He said, still frowning at the floorboards. She untangled herself from him, and he looked around again, a more determined gleam in his eyes where the distaste had been. “The floors need a polish,” he observed, “the wallpaper’s fine, and maybe we can fix some glass on the shelves to make it shine.” He shot a glance at Royd’s perch. “If your bird doesn’t use it, we can fix that up into a creeper vine’s stand. Hm, what else?” He paced around as though assessing a battlefield formation. “Those curtains you can magic into a brighter shade, y’know, more eye-catching.”

“Gold?” she teased.

“Yeah, like gold.” He replied, entirely serious. “Or a shinier shade of lilac, you know? That’s more your taste, isn’t it?”

“Aw.” She giggled, walking over him to kiss his crinkled brow. “Come on, I’m tired, we’ll figure it out tomorrow.”

“Tired?” He gasped dramatically, wide eyes affecting dismay. “Can’t have that, can we?”

She yelped, helplessly, as her legs were knocked from the ground and in a moment, he had slung her over his shoulder, armoured golden hand curled protectively over her waist.

*

The apartment above was well-lit, already bathed in the pink light of this city’s dusk. It was even roomier than the store beneath, with the wide, stained-glass windows typical of these parts. There was a cozy kitchen off to one side, a drawing room situation with a few potted plants and a cozy, cushioned couch. There was a tiled balcony outside their bedroom, overlooking the cobbled Venterran streets. The people here dressed differently- thicker material, for this milder weather, and in this, thoroughly middle-class part of the city, hats and berets seemed to be common accessories. She smiled to herself, thinking of the all the outfits they could invest in once the money came in more freely. “What’re you grinning at?” Lucio set her down gently on the couch. “Mm, nothing.” She looked around, still smiling dreamily. The dogs, and Camio in his little cage, were fast asleep, exhausted from the journey and the excitement of moving. “You’ve made good work of this place.” She mused. “I could’ve helped with magic, at least for some of this.”

Lucio waved his hand dismissively. “And wear yourself out? Nah.” He followed her gaze around the room, his brow wrinkled in consideration. “We can extend the shop up to this floor, when we make a little more money.” He said, sizing up the walls as though he was already making calculations in his mind. “If the work at the Palace pays like it should, I could move us out into a townhouse, somewhere big and grand by the vineyards.”

Oh, his ambition was _sexy._

She considered tugging him by the wrist and inviting him to sink down beside her. If she did, they wouldn’t be getting back up anytime soon. Reluctantly, she left her cushiony cocoon with a sigh. “We’ve got to fix up this place more, sunshine, come on.” Right about now, she wished levitation didn’t take as much out of her as it did. She gave it a shot, nevertheless, bringing out pots and pans from their luggage and managing to assemble them neatly on the kitchen counter, before giving up with a wince.

Ugh.

Well, at least that was done.

She turned around to look at Lucio, who was in the bedroom, trying to pull out a few sheets and blankets from the bag. “Take the armor off!” she called out. “You’re going to rip them up.” He startled, and smiled sheepishly before he began to unclasp the sharper golden pieces off his arm.

“You don’t _need_ to wear it, you know.” She said lightly, absently casting _another_ layer of protection spells on to the walls. It’s an old impulse- well, not too old as to be forgotten, but old enough that it no longer ached and tore her raw, except on the worst of days. “Wear what?” Lucio eyed her spellwork warily, but didn’t protest. He needed the assurance too, she knew, as bad as he still tended to feel about needing it. 

She walked into the bedroom, shutting the door behind them.

“The armour.” She gestured at the claws he was unhooking from his fingers. “We’re safe here.” Lucio said nothing, finally tugging the sheets free from the bag, unscathed and lily-white, and then he mumbled something under his breath that sounded like “signature look.”

“The gold is signature enough, doll.” Sybilla watched him smooth out the sheets, admiring the flex of his muscles through his thin undershirt, and then handed him the heavier tulip patterned bedspread. “You’d make a lot more friends too, if you look a lot less scary.”

“Ah, that’s where you’re wrong, baby.” He threw her a look over his shoulder. “I _want_ to be scary.”

“Oh?” She threw a pillow at him, and he caught it, and fluffed it up at the head of the bed. She sauntered over to him, kicking off her shoes and plopping down on the bed. “Scary, are you?” She pulled him by the fabric of his shirt into a long, searing kiss. Lucio’s hands tugged at her braid, unraveling it, letting dyed black and silver hair spill down her back. “Scary?” She asked again, relishing in the way he was already breathing hard. “Mm, terrifying.” He tugged her up by the wrist, foregoing the bed entirely to pin her up against the wall, the wolfish smile spreading on his face sharpening the hard glint in his eyes. Sybilla shivered, but stood her ground. “I’m not scared.” She taunted, just to hear him growl.

“M-maybe-“ she bit her lip as his nibbled his way up her throat, thick thighs pressed against her own. “Maybe I need a l-little convincing.”She threaded her hands through his hair, and _pulled,_ breaking him away from her and pulling him back to her mouth. He was all teeth and tongue and fury, his hands grasping the back of her thighs and lifting her up to wind her legs around his narrow waist and her arms around his neck. One of Haider’s creations rattled dangerously from above them. Sybilla squeaked, breaking away to look up at the framed painting.

Lucio’s fingers gripped her jaw and turned her back to face him. “Eyes on _me._ ” He snarled, the hand on her thigh digging into the hot skin beneath her fitted white pants. Another, far more pronounced shiver ran down her spine. “I don’t know, Lucio.” She purred. “Tough guy like you, you’d know how to hold my attention without having to _ask_ for it, no?” With one rough, familiar, _delicious_ pull of his golden hand, her shirt came undone, a few brass buttons clattering to the floor. He licked a stripe up the sweat beading on her throat, his nails pressing into a spot beneath her ribs until she whimpered. The painting fell to the floor with a clatter.

“Now you’re getting it.” He licked his lips, and then he released her to shrug out of his shirt. Pale, scarred skin glowed in the twilight haze, battle-wrought muscles rippling as he picked her legs up off the floor again, his hips flush against hers. “Let’s see how much we can knock off the walls before sunset, yeah?”

White teeth flashed in a savage, hungry grin, and Sybilla liked that idea very, _very_ much.

**Author's Note:**

> Title inspired by Troye Sivan's "The Good Side"
> 
> Tumblr: AtypicalAcademic


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